


These Are The Voyagers

by DrDom



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Enterprise, Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Canon-compliant finale fix, Episode: s04e22 These Are the Voyages, Episode: s07e15 The Void, Fix Everything, Gen, Trip Lives
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-25
Updated: 2015-05-02
Packaged: 2018-03-25 17:33:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 9,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3818977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DrDom/pseuds/DrDom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Finale fix for 'Enterprise', following on immediately from 'Terra Prime'. This time, the holographic crew of the NX01 are called on to aid with a dilemma facing Voyager. Can Trip help B'Elanna do the right thing in the Void, as Enterprise plays its role in the founding of the Federation?</p>
<p>  <i>When the last of earth left to discover</i><br/><i>is that which was the beginning</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [R_S_B](https://archiveofourown.org/users/R_S_B/gifts), [Sareki](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sareki/gifts), [mylittleredgirl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mylittleredgirl/gifts).



**JANEWAY: Where do we stand with the modulator?**  
**CHAKOTAY: B'Elanna and the other engineers are working around the clock to build one.**  
**JANEWAY: So everyone's pulling together to make up for my mistake.**  
**CHAKOTAY: They have to. It says so in the Federation Charter.**  
**(Voyager: 'The Void')**

  


B'Elanna Torres stormed down the corridor away from Main Engineering. Being heavily pregnant did not slow her down in the slightest.

“She made me take out the polaron modulator! She threw Bosaal out of the Alliance!”

Tom Paris hurried to keep up with his incandescent wife. “He'd _murdered_ people to get that modulator,” he panted out.

“But that was our chance of getting out of the Void!”

Tom took the corner. “Chakotay said you were building your own.”

“I don't know if the prototype will work! _Or_ if it'll have enough power. I didn’t have a chance to study the proper one before 'O Captain my Captain' righteously threw it off the ship. _She_ has the principles but _I’ve_ got to make them work!”

“So what's new?” Tom finally succeeded in catching her by the arm, and they came to a halt in front of the turbolift. “It's not like you have a _choice_ now.”

“Garon offered to get the modulator back. Said he wouldn't tell the Captain if I didn't. We could pass it off as our own. It would work!”

“And what'll _he_ do to 'get it back'?”

B'Elanna took a deep breath. “Tom, what if our baby's born here, in this Void, fighting for survival, because the Captain had a principle? What sort of a world would I be building for our child?”

“OK, come on.” The turbolift doors had opened, and Tom now pulled B'Elanna inside.

“Where are we going?”

“You said you needed a break, I've got just the thing. Deck six,” he called to the computer as the doors shut.

They exited the turbolift, and Tom strode over to the holodeck entrance.

“Computer, run program 'Founding of the Coalition of Planets'.”

“ _Tom_ ,” B'Elanna grated, “we're in the middle of an emergency, is this really the time to be playing one of your twentieth century teenage fantasy holoprograms –”

“Twenty- _second_ century. Don't you know anything about history? The Coalition was created in 2155, six years before the Federation Charter was signed.”

“Funnily enough I wasn't too bothered learning the history of the Federation when I was _fighting_ it.”

“… says the Starfleet Lieutenant and Chief Engineer.”

B'Elanna glowered at him.

Tom's tone was pleading. “Look, this is about the world we _all_ want to live in. And the world we want our children to live in. I think you'll find this program … helpful. Please?”

B'Elanna sighed. She walked over to the holodeck control console. 

“It looks like there's two versions here. The other one's by … 'Rike R. T. Williams and Rick Brannon'?”

“Don't bother with that,” Tom said, decidedly. “It's one of those awful holoboilers. It's about as historically accurate as … Shakespeare's 'Richard the Third'. _This_ one's the _real_ history.”

The holodeck doors slid open.


	2. Chapter 2

“Hey, Hoshi, any hails?” Ensign Travis Mayweather looked up from the helm.

“All quiet.” Fellow Ensign Hoshi Sato glanced over her Communications station. “For now. There's bound to be another one in a minute.”

“I'm beginning to think we'll _never_ get back to Earth. This is worse than trying to make it to Risa.”

“We've logged ten incidents since Beta shift on Thursday,” the Tactical station's occupant, Lieutenant Malcolm Reed, noted. “And six course changes.”

“Seven,” Travis corrected. “Don't forget the Targanian freighter.”

“I won't be forgettin' _them_ in a hurry: we've just finished moppin' up the mess from their plasma injectors.” A pair of feet sticking out from under the panel next to Hoshi were the only visible part of _Enterprise_ 's chief engineer, Commander Charles Tucker. 

“We are on the way to witness the Coalition Agreement.” The ship's First Officer, Commander T'Pol, looked up from her Science station. “As the Captain said, it would be hypocritical of us not to render assistance. He also … believes it will help erase the memory of Paxton's xenophobic actions.”

There was a brief silence on the Bridge.

Malcolm spoke, his tone deliberately light: “If you ask me, he's secretly hoping one of these calls will keep us away from the ceremony, and he'll get out of giving that speech he's trying to write.”

“Is Admiral Gardner _really_ going to make him wear epaulettes?” Travis asked.

The sound of a door opening made him sit upright hurriedly. Jonathan Archer stepped out onto the Bridge.

“How are the upgrades going, Trip?”

“Just about done.” The engineer extracted himself from under the console and looked up at his Captain. “The delegates' translation devices'll be able to talk directly to the ship's computer now. We've even hooked up the insult files.”

Archer smiled. “Good work.” 

His face became worried.

“Hoshi, which was the language you spent three weeks working on the verb 'to lay an egg'? Was it Tellarite or –”

“Rigellian.” Hoshi watched as Archer made a note on his PADD. “But Captain, you're not putting that in your speech? It was nothing!”

T'Pol turned to her. “As I recall, Ensign, your translation ended decades of often bloody debate over the Rigel-Coridan Accords.” 

“But –”

Archer said: “If _I_ have to take credit for this Coalition, the rest of you can put up with your fair share as well.” He looked at his PADD in dismay. “At least you don't have to _give_ this.”

Trip grinned up at him. “You know what they say: imagine your audience naked.”

“ _Thanks_ , Trip.”

“Mind you, not sure any of us knows what a Tellarite looks like under those clothes.”

T'Pol raised an eyebrow. “I could retrieve that information from the ship's database if it would assist the Captain's presentation,” she offered.

Archer was spared from replying by a loud beep from the comm.. 

“We're being hailed,” Hoshi said. She listened to her earpiece, frowning. “They say … Alien vessel, this is _Enterprise_ ; please repeat your last transmission.”

She looked up.

“Captain, they say they are … _pirates_.”

 

^^^^

 

“ _Pirates_ , Tom? Are you _sure_ this isn't the fantasy version?”

Tom looked up from peering inquisitively over Travis' shoulder at the helm controls; B'Elanna was sitting next to the Engineering monitors by the Tactical station. Around them, the _Enterprise_ Bridge crew went about their tasks unconcerned by the additional presence.

“Pirates are hardly fantasy for _us_ at the moment,” Tom said. “Neelix is still complaining about the food we lost in the first raid.”

“Aren't they only a couple of days away from Earth?” B'Elanna asked, as Malcolm stepped around her.

“The Alpha Quadrant was a very different place back then.” Tom looked thoughtfully at the empty Captain's chair. “There was no Federation. Earth only had two warp-five ships, the Vulcans were busy with their internal revolution, and the Tellerites and Andorians could barely stand to be in the same room let alone patrol together. Earth freighters used to carry weapons on the run to Alpha Centauri. Can you imagine it?”

“Right now? Yes.”

Tom sat down in the Captain's chair. He nodded approvingly.

“By this point, no-one even knew what the Romulans looked like, but they knew they were bad news. This was the time, right here, when a few people realised that no one species was strong enough to stand up to what was coming.”

“Let me guess. They formed the Coalition.”

“Yes!” Tom leaned towards her, intently. “Lots of people forget about the Coalition, focus on the Federation, but _this_ is where it really started.” 

He gave a snort. “That Williams and Brannon holo set these events six years later with the Federation treaty. The authors gave Captain Archer history's longest-lived beagle, and never even promoted any of the crew.” 

Tom shook his head sadly at the errors of amateurs.

B'Elanna said impatiently: “I still don't see how this is going to help, as long as the Captain – _our_ Captain – is determined to run her Alliance like we're back in the Alpha Quadrant.”

“Can we watch for a bit longer?”

B'Elanna shrugged. “I guess. Until we're stuck in the Void so long the power goes. We may be running off waste energy from the main grid, but once that drops below a certain level the holo-matrix won't initialise. Mind you, by then watching history'll be as pointless as the Alliance.”

Tom gave her a grin. “Let's see what the future brings.”

The scene changed as he stood.


	3. Chapter 3

“… They've asked us to give them a lift to the signing ceremony. They're interested in joining the Coalition, and their ship's too slow to make it.”

“Those creatures are _pirates_ ,” the voice from the Bridge's viewscreen snarled.

“So they tell me. They say they're keen to move to a more sustainable way of life, and think the Coalition can help.”

“You're a fool, _pinkskin_. They'll strip the ship from under your noses, and then kill you all.”

Archer considered the glowering Andorian on the screen.

“We're bringing them to the ceremony, and fixing a problem with their particle filters along the way,” he replied, mildly. “That's all, Shran. I offered safe passage to Earth to anyone who wanted it, and as long as they play by our rules they're welcome on my ship _and_ in the Coalition.”

“It's all very well having principles, but are your crew prepared to pay for them?” Shran snapped.

Trip spoke up from the back of the Bridge.

“You bet your last antenna we are. D'you think we're _afraid_?”

Shran sneered. “It is easy to mistake foolishness for fearlessness.”

“Fine! Then we'll _be_ the fools, all the way to the signin' ceremony.” Trip pointedly turned his back on the viewscreen. “If you'll excuse me, Cap'n, I've got some particle filters to repair.”

Shran watched him as he stalked off the Bridge.

“You have a loyal crew, pinkskin. I hope you know where you're leading them.”

“I appreciate your concerns, but until these 'pirates' do something to threaten my ship they're staying here.” Archer paused. “I haven't always stuck to my principles, and who knows if that was right at the time or not. But with everything we've been through to build this Coalition, I'm not prepared to let them go again.”

Shran glared at him for a moment, then turned to address an Andorian off-screen. “Lay in an intercept course with _Enterprise_.”

“Shran …”

“Don't worry, pinkskin, your 'guests' are safe. Seeing as I can't convince you to look out for your own interests, I'll have to do it for you. Our ship will accompany you to Earth. At a reasonable distance, of course.”

“Thanks.” Archer paused. “So you got another ship?”

Shran gestured round his Bridge. “It's not as big as the _Kumari_ , but she's mine. The Imperial Guard received many representations on my behalf. I was … not informed who had sent them.”

Archer smiled. “So do you owe me now or I owe you? I've kind of lost count.”

“You owe me an antenna,” Shran growled. “I cannot get married until it has grown back.”

Archer raised his eyebrows. “You and Jhamal?”

“She is with child.” Shran's eyes creased, and for a moment the battle-hardened Guardsman appeared to melt. “My child. We have formed a quartet with two others. And Jhamal has agreed to marry me. I am … privileged.”

Archer broke into a broad grin. “Congratulations. That was, uh, quick.”

“It will be an Aenar wedding, but we shall also follow Andorian custom. I invite you, Jonathan Archer, to be part of my _b'hai_. It is our tradition before marriage: a gathering of the male warrior's closest friends.”

Archer smiled. “We call that a 'bachelor party'. I would be honoured. I'll bring some bourbon.”

“You will need it, pinkskin,” Shran's face took on a wolfish look. “For two days we all trek through the mountains to the Plateau of Gorath. There we remove our clothing and, naked, we capture ice-bores and brand each other with their searing heat. Then we leap into the frozen lake. In this we are sustained only by ale fermented in the mountains of Un'guh!”

“Thanks, Shran. I … can't wait.”

The viewscreen went black.

“It will be a unique opportunity to participate in their cultural activities,” T'Pol noted.

“I don't think an Andorian stag weekend would be top of _my_ list,” Malcolm muttered.

Archer shot them both a reproachful look. 

“What do you make of Shran's opinion of our pirates?” he asked T'Pol.

“His concerns are logical. Having his ship close by may prove … useful.”

Archer smiled at her. “When we first met Shran you didn't trust him as far as you could throw his First Officer. If the Vulcan Council follow your lead, there's hope for this Coalition after all.”

He turned to the Tactical station. 

“Malcolm, let's talk about our guests.”

  


^^^^

  


“I had an Andorian room-mate at the Academy once.” B'Elanna stared at the viewscreen. “For about a week.”

Tom sat in the Tactical chair as Archer, T'Pol, and Malcolm passed by them into the Ready Room. 

“What happened?”

“She kept turning down the heating. I broke her nose and they put it down to 'cultural misunderstanding'.” B'Elanna sighed. “Putting us together probably sounded a good idea to someone higher up. A fine example of Federation principles in action. No-one thought to ask _us_.”

“I guess you can't blame them for trying.”

“Oh, principles sound good, but in the real world sometimes things are different.” B'Elanna sat up. “That modulator –”

“B'Elanna –”

“ _Listen_ , Tom. Right now, _I'm_ the one who has to figure out how to get us all out of here. And there's an easy way to do that. I'll get the working modulator from Garon. No-one else needs to know. And when we're out of the Void and we're _safe_ , we can raise our child surrounded by as many of the Captain's principles as you like.”

“I just … don't want you to do something you'll regret.”

“Tom, do you have any idea what it will be like for our child to grow up always fighting?”

“But she'll have us as a family, all of _Voyager_ , all the Alliance. Isn't that enough?”

“It wasn't enough for _me_ ,” B'Elanna snapped. “We learned all about _Federation ideals_ in school. We even had Vulcan tutors come and give us IDIC lessons.” Her hand went to her forehead. “I was still the monster in the playground when we went outside. They're fine words – but no-one really believes them.”

“I think the Captain does.”

“Oh _please_ –”

“Please, B'Elanna.” Tom took a deep breath. “I _know_ things aren't perfect. I can't imagine what it's been like for you your whole life. It’s _right_ to hold the Federation to a high standard, and call them out when they mess up. That’s what we do for the people and things that matter to us.”

He paused. “If the people at the top get it wrong, that just means it's up to us to show them how it's done.”

B'Elanna gave a reluctant laugh.

“I wonder what _they'd_ do,” she said, looking around the Bridge. “They didn't know about the Federation back then.”

“But they gave birth to it: Shran, T'Pol, Archer. They figured they were stronger together, as friends.”

“That engineer as well. He seemed pretty happy with his Captain's ideals. I wonder what he'd make of Captain Janeway's Alliance?”

“Why don't we ask him? The scene's about to change.”

They stood as the holodeck Bridge faded.


	4. Chapter 4

The door from Main Engineering opened. Two figures stepped out into the corridor.

“The filters should be charged by tomorrow.”

“Just in time for our guests to get goin'. Nice work, Anna. See you in the mornin'.”

“'Night, boss.”

The woman passed Tom and B'Elanna without a glance. The man eased a stiff shoulder, then set off after her.

Tom stepped forward.

“Computer – break the fifth wall for character Commander Tucker.”

Trip stopped in his tracks. A look of surprise passed over his face. 

“Hi, I'm Tom Paris.” Tom held out his hand. 

Trip took it with a slow smile. “Hey.” 

He let go, gazing around him in wonder. 

“So this is a holographic projection? Well whaddaya know. Saw one like this once, on an alien ship.”

Tom grinned. “We thought we'd say hi. While we're passing.”

“Nice to meet you.” Trip completed his circuit and smiled over at B'Elanna. “Hi there. Charles Tucker. Most people call me Trip.”

“B'Elanna Torres.”

“B'Elanna is _our_ Chief Engineer,” Tom told Trip.

“Chief Engineer?” Trip looked at her. Pregnant belly. Ridged forehead. “You're a …” 

He smiled.

“… You're a Torres? Any relation to Julieta Torres? Cochrane and Sloane's main collaborator on the Warp Two project?”

“Yeah, she was my – well, a few greats, aunt.”

Trip whistled. “Well I'll be … I met her once, got the picture to prove it. Her relativistic subspace compensator? Genius. Vulcans thought it'd take us two hundred years to get that. She did it in twenty.”

“Must run in the family,” Tom grinned.

“So whatcha doing out here?” Trip asked. “In the … where are we, 'Delta Quadrant'?”

“Trying to get home,” B'Elanna said.

“Well, that's the usual goal,” Tom added. “Right now we're trying to get back to trying to get home.”

“Sounds complicated. Welcome aboard _Enterprise_.”

“Welcome to _Voyager_.”

“What? Oh yeah.” Trip laughed. “So, what are you up to round here?”

“Just … looking. Maybe trying to find something.”

Trip gestured proudly around him. “What do you reckon?”

“Not bad,” Tom said, with a grin. “Although maybe a bit … small.”

“Hey! Size isn't everythin', you know. An' you lay off those sorts of comments around my engines, y'hear?”

“I would _never_ comment on the size of an engineer's nacelles. My wife taught me that.”

Trip turned to B'Elanna. “Lemme guess, he's Command division, right?”

“Got it in one.”

Trip returned to contemplating the holodeck. 

“Boy, if we had one of these on _Enterprise_ … This'd sure beat movie night.”

“You had movie nights?” Tom was fascinated.

“Every Tuesday. That not make it into the history books?

“We could recreate _Enterprise_ 's movie nights in here!” 

“Tom –”

“It would be brilliant, B'Elanna! Where did you hold it?”

“Mess Hall,” said Trip, amused at his enthusiasm.

“Did you just sit there, or did you have drinks or … ?”

A slow grin spread over Trip's face.

“You got any Vulcans on board?”

“A few.”

“Ever seen 'em eat popcorn?”

Tom laughed. “Vorik uses chopsticks. I think Tuvok thinks the whole concept is illogical.”

“Some things don't change in two hundred years.”

“So what sort of movies did you watch?”

“Oh, y'know, the usual.” Trip smiled. “The three best horror movies ever made. Then the SF stuff: 'Attack of the Martians', 'Bride of Chaotica', 'It Came – '”

“' _Bride of Chaotica_ '?”

“It's an old one. There's this guy called Cap'n Proton and he's fightin' Dr Chaotica and his army –”

“– army of evil! Oh my god, B'Elanna, this is _amazing_.”

Trip looked questioningly at B'Elanna. She shrugged.

Tom carried on, oblivious. “I can't believe you watched that! It's my favourite holonovel, only of course you won't be playing the novel, you'll be watching the movie, and –”

“Woah, slow down there buddy,” Trip laughed. “Holo what?”

Tom explained. “You only had 2D or 3D movies; but now we don't just _watch_ movies, we can _be_ in them. Kind of like this. Everyone loves them!”

“Not _everyone_ ,” B'Elanna interjected.

“You liked the chapter we had last week,” Tom said, defensively.

B'Elanna crossed her arms. “I only played to fill in for Harry. And I only _liked_ it because I got to blow things up.”

Trip grinned. “I've got a friend you should meet.”

He put a hand on Tom's shoulder, and was about to speak when a voice hailed him.

“Evening, Trip.”

“'Scuse me,” Trip smiled apologetically to Tom and B'Elanna.

He walked across the corridor. 

“Hey there, Cap'n. Filters are all repaired and chargin' up nicely. How's the speech?”

Archer made a face at the PADD in his hand.

“I need a little inspiration. How about a nightcap? I've got a bottle of whisky I've been saving for a special occasion.”

“Sounds good. We can toast the voyagers on the road to the futu–”

Tom grabbed B'Elanna as an explosion convulsed the deck.


	5. Chapter 5

“Tucker to Engineering, what the hell was that?!”

The voice from the comm. panel was frantic: “ _It was the aliens' particle filters! They just blew out half the relays – they were rigged!_ ”

“We're under _attack_?”

“ _Intruder alert! Seal the emergency bulkheads!_ ”

The sound of shouting came from the direction of Engineering. Trip and Archer found themselves surrounded by their erstwhile 'guests', now heavily armed and suddenly extremely pirate-looking.

“We've come for your dilithium matrix and the core of your intermix chamber,” a white-haired and green-skinned alien, obviously the leader, declared. “You will come with us and order the crew to open Engineering.”

A hairless pirate with a spiked cranium thrust her gun into Archer's back. “This one's the Captain!” she hissed. “Without him they will be leaderless – we can seize the ship!”

“Kill him,” the lead alien commanded.

“No, wait!” Trip lunged forward.

Archer tried to push him out of the way. “I'll take care of this.”

“The hell you will.” Trip shoved him aside and turned to the lead pirate. “I can get you into Engineering.”

“If you're lying –”

“I'm not, but I won't do it if you kill him!”

Archer grabbed him. “Trip!”

The butt of the hairless pirate's rifle smacked into Archer's head. He crumpled into a heap at Tom's feet.

Trip took a deep breath. “Along here, it's the back way into Engineering. Leave him, or I won't do this!”

At a nod from their leader, the aliens left Archer on the deck and followed Trip through the corridors.

“Be very careful,” the lead pirate told him.

“You can all come see for yourselves,” Trip said. He stopped by a pair of doors. “This is the secondary Engineering station.”

He opened the doors and stepped into an alcove.

Tom and B'Elanna crowded in behind the aliens.

Trip pointed to a panel on the wall. “I'm going to need to open this so I can bypass the security protocols. That'll let us into Main Engineering. Is that okay?”

The alien leader pointed the rifle at him. “As long as you keep your hands where we can see them.”

“No problem.”

Trip removed the large wall panel. 

“We're coming to the moment of truth,” Tom whispered.

Trip propped the panel upright, then reached in and removed a narrow conduit.

“Now, all I need to do is connect this to the relay inside there.” He pointed upwards. 

“Proceed.”

Trip clambered up, perching on the panel. He reached into the ceiling cavity and took out a relay. 

“But Tom that's a –”

“Shh!”

Trip turned to the pirates. 

“There's just one other thing I need to tell you.”

“ _Tom_ , he's –”

“You can all go straight to _hell_.”

Trip connected the conduit.


	6. Chapter 6

The echoes from the explosion died away. B'Elanna and Tom looked down at the bodies of the aliens sprawling in the corridor. Then they turned and gazed into the alcove.

Trip lay where he had fallen. There was blood on the deck. One hand, badly burned, rested next to his fair hair.

There was the sound of running footsteps. Archer and Malcolm leapt the bodies of the aliens and then came to an abrupt halt.

Archer advanced into the alcove. Malcolm seemed frozen to the spot.

“Trip …?”

The people faded out of the holo-scene.

Tom turned to B'Elanna in the doorway of the empty alcove.

“The pirates were defeated. But is this the end for our courageous engineer?”

B'Elanna gave him a withering look.

“Of course not, Tom.”

“How –?”

B'Elanna pointed. 

“I was _trying_ to tell you: he was standing on a plasma-isolating panel. He designed them. We’ve got Tucker Plates at every relay junction on _Voyager_.”

Tom blinked.

  


^^^^

  


“… so I thought I wouldn't be much of an engineer if I couldn't give 'em a jolt without keepin' _myself_ safe.” Trip looked down at his hands. “Well, almost.”

“You can't expect to ignite plasma with your bare hands and come away completely unscathed,” said Phlox, tying off the last of the bandages. “However, the imaging chamber shows there's no lasting damage. A few sessions with my Edosian suckerfish should do the trick.”

“Um, thanks Doc.” Trip looked up at Archer. “I’m just glad you're safe, boss. How's the head?”

Archer smiled down at him. “I've had worse headaches. Although usually only after drinking with Shran.” He paused. “Thanks, Trip.”

“Anytime. Couldn't let anythin' happen to you – training a new Cap'n's a pain in the ass for a Chief Engineer. 'Sides, you've got a speech to make.” 

They exchanged a grin, somewhat rueful on Archer's part. 

“So Shran took the pirates away?”

Archer nodded. “He's detouring back to Andoria. They'll live to stand trial, and Shran will make the ceremon–”

“Of all the impulsive, irresponsible and downright _reckless_ actions, _this_ takes the biscuit!”

Archer swung round to see an extremely irate Armory officer bearing down on them through the open doors of Sickbay.

Malcolm marched up to the bed and glared at Trip. “You _knew_ we had procedures for just this situation. What were you _thinking_?”

“Um –”

“I was by the turbolift, McKenzie had the MACOs round the next corner, they wouldn't have got past the third bulkhead if _you_ hadn't decided to play the hero and _gamble with your life_. One toe off that panel and you'd be in here with third degree plasma burns! May I remind you that blowing things up is _my_ job, and I'll thank you to leave it to the experts, Mr Tucker!"

Trip stared up at him, speechless.

Malcolm let his breath out explosively. 

“How are you?” he asked, abruptly.

Trip's voice was subdued. “Doc says I’m gonna be fine. Just gotta get cosy with some fish to fix my hands.”

“Good.”

Malcolm scrubbed a hand over his hair, suddenly looking very lost. 

“I … ought to be used to it by now, but seeing you lying there and not knowing if you …”

“Sorry, Malcolm,” said Trip, penitently. 

Malcolm scowled at him, then leaned forward and grasped him in a fierce hug. Trip returned it, careless of his maltreated hands. 

After a long moment Malcolm straightened up, blinking. 

“Right,” he said. 

He nodded to Archer and then strode out of Sickbay without a backwards glance.

Phlox was the first to speak.

“I think that's quite enough excitement for my patient,” he said. “I would like to run another scan and then start with the dermal regeneration.”

Archer laid a hand on Trip's shoulder. “Get some rest.” 

He left.

“Excuse me.” Phlox detoured around B'Elanna.

“Hey there,” Trip smiled, as she and Tom approached the bed.

Tom gave him a sympathetic grimace. “That looked nasty.”

“Oh, it's not so bad. Stuff the Doc's given me really takes the edge off. Just hope he doesn't have me seein' pink elephants. Or whatever they have on Denobula.” 

“It was a pretty brave thing you did.”

Trip snorted. “Brave? Malcolm thinks I'm an idiot, and I bet Shran can't _wait_ to say 'I told you so'. I only hope Jon doesn't start thinkin' he was wrong to stick to his word.”

B'Elanna made an impatient noise. “His principles just took the skin off your hands.”

Trip looked up at her. “It's better'n the alternative. We had enough of _that_ out in the damn' Expanse. And it wasn't just the Cap'n: most of us had times we didn't know which way our compass was pointin'. When anyone did somethin' then, it was like … everyone got a little bit cheaper. We all felt it, even if sometimes we didn't know why.”

His voice seemed to turn inward. “We heard a Vulcan ship found the Illyrians. Their impulse engines burnt out six months after we stole their warp coil. They'd been drifting. Eleven people died.”

His face was set as he raised it. “Reckon I'm not the only one who said 'never again'.”

B'Elanna was silent. 

Trip passed a bandaged hand slowly over his eyes. “So what're you lookin' for round here anyway?”

B'Elanna paused for a second before answering. “Maybe some clue as to what I'm supposed to do. I've got a … decision to make. About our ship.”

“If you wouldn't mind …” 

Tom moved out of the doctor's way as he prepared Trip for the scan.

“This an Engineering decision or a Command one?”

“I … don't know any more.”

“I'm sure you'll make the right choice.” Trip smiled at B'Elanna. “Me, I always go for the engineering solution.” 

He leaned back under Phlox’s ministrations and closed his eyes.


	7. Chapter 7

The muffled noise of the crowd inside filtered through to the stadium building. T'Pol stood, composed, at the bottom of a flight of stairs, while Trip prowled nervously around the antechamber.

“Where's the Cap'n?” 

“His groundcar will be here shortly.” T'Pol watched him for a moment. “Your pacing will not increase its velocity.”

“Fine.” Trip threw up his hands.

He propped himself against the low wall next to her. “Haven't seen much of you off-duty since … recently. How've you been?”

“I am … well.” T'Pol indicated the light gauze around Trip's hands. “How are your injuries?”

“I'll be fine, once the Doc's done with me. Must say I'd rather eat those fish of his than be doctored by 'em.”

He shifted uncomfortably. “So, uh, Malcolm chewed me out in Sickbay. You know: 'reckless', 'could've been killed', that sort of thing. I guess I owe you an apology as well.”

T'Pol raised an eyebrow. “You acted out of concern for the Captain. That was admirable, however lacking in foresight.”

“I'm not going round saying you'll miss me, but … you've lost a hell of a lot recently. I'd kick myself from here to Andoria if I made things worse for you.”

“I … appreciate that.”

Trip looked across at her. 

“You know, you're the bravest person I've ever met. You came on board _Enterprise_ as an outsider, you put up with us humans, our emotions – our smell. And you stayed. This Coalition wouldn't be happening without you.”

“You have made a considerable contribution yourself,” T'Pol returned. “Ambassador Soval speaks highly of you. He described you to Administrator T'Pau as 'not entirely unreachable by reason'.”

“Well – uh – tell him I said thanks.”

He hesitated for a moment, then turned to face her. “Look, I know we're probably never going to be, y'know, _together_. But serving on _Enterprise_ , with you and Jon … that's where I want to be. I guess I'm trying to say … there's lots of different ways of being family.”

T'Pol's expression was thoughtful.

“When I was posted on _Enterprise_ , I did not envisage it would be a lengthy assignment,” she admitted. “I considered true reciprocity between Vulcans and humans to be impossible. That we are just too different, too set in our own cultures, to ever be anything other than cautious allies.”

She looked up. “Serving with the Captain … and with _you_ , I discovered there was more to be experienced, more to be _understood_ , than I been told. I made choices to continue that exploration. I choose to do so still.”

She faced Trip. “Some of my choices in the past hurt you. I will always … wish that had been otherwise.”

“I … appreciate that.”

There was silence between them for a moment. 

“And I would.”

“What?”

“I would miss you.”

Trip grinned. “Well, something tells me you're gonna have to put up with me for a long time to come.”

He held up a bandaged hand. “'Live long and … ' damn, 's a bit tricky right now.” He gave her a lopsided smile.

T'Pol reached up, pressing her lips to his forehead.

“Peace and long life,” she whispered.

  


^^^^

  
Tom and B'Elanna, seated on the sofa in the antechamber, watched as T'Pol and Trip lapsed into companionable silence.

“This is it,” Tom said; “this is where it all began. The signing of the Compact of the Coalition of Planets, March 6 2155. Out there are representatives from seven worlds, five of which go on to form the nucleus of the Federation in 2161.”

He gazed at Trip and T'Pol. “I wonder, did any of them realise what they were starting here? Did they ever think that the dream would become a reality and spread throughout the stars?”

“Since when did you become the Federation's poster boy?” B'Elanna asked, amused.

Tom seemed taken aback. 

“OK, so I haven't always been the Federation's biggest fan – or Starfleet's,” he said, after a moment. “But you've got to admit, being on _Voyager_ , serving with the Captain … she's kept us alive, and she’s kept us together. As a crew. As a family. Maybe that's changed my opinion of those principles just a bit.”

B'Elanna looked up. Archer entered the room, PADD in hand, a nervous look on his face. Trip and T'Pol greeted him.

Tom continued: “And she's not just _kept_ us together, she's _made_ us together. Starfleet, Maquis, Borg – even me. She's made us so much stronger than we were apart.”

B'Elanna stared ahead. “Sometimes reconciling opposites isn't all that much fun. It's like … sometimes when there's a situation on board I don't know if I should write equations at it or punch it across the hallway.”

“I can't imagine how hard it must be for you,” Tom said. “I guess that’s what these people showed us: that if we want to do _anything_ worth anything at all with our lives then we have to work and fight for it.”

B'Elanna reached out. 

Tom took her hand. “And the result is … so amazing,” he said, his voice full of wonder. “ _Voyager_ 's shown that even human and Klingon, and Starfleet and Maquis, can live and work together. Be in love together.” One hand rested on her bump gently. “And build a future together.”

They leaned in to each other, and forgot all about the holodeck for the time being.

When they had rejoined the world, Trip strolled over. He gave them a wink.

“So, you here for the big speech?” He perched on the coffee table in front of them.

“Wouldn’t miss it,” Tom said. “I had to memorise this in grade school. Always got the name of the second Tellarite liberator wrong.”

Trip asked B'Elanna: “How's the choice going? Gettin' anywhere?”

She looked over to where Archer was talking with T'Pol. 

She said slowly: “Did you ever _really_ disagree with your Captain and just want to … take a swing at her? I mean him?”

Trip laughed. “Yeah, sometimes! Mainly when he was getting my engines hammered and I had to pick up the pieces. But you know, in the end he got things pretty damn close to right. Folk say it's easier to follow a person than an idea, but with Jon … well, he kinda _is_ the idea. This Coalition isn't something he's done, it's something he's made, out of himself. I guess that's why he's going up on that podium.”

B'Elanna nodded.

Trip gestured towards her bump. “Hey, congratulations, by the way.”

“Thanks.” B'Elanna shifted and gave a sudden grimace. “I swear, Tom, you're carrying the next one.”

“Sure. The doctor's always up for a challenge.”

“Good for you two,” Trip grinned. “I was pregnant once.”

“I turned into a lizard,” said Tom, not to be outdone.

“Yeah?”

“You know: broke the warp ten barrier, de-evolved into a reptile, had babies with the Captain.”

Trip gave a laugh. “I love Jonny with all my heart, but I don't think I'd go that far with him.”

He looked thoughtful, then reached into his breast pocket. “Wanna see something?” 

Shifting to sit next to B'Elanna, he shyly brought out a photograph. The subject appeared to be a baby dragon wearing green striped dungarees. 

“Isn't she sweet? She's called Tripple. Ah'len tells me how she's doing every few months. She kinda got into trouble over this, isn't working on a starship any more, but she sounds happy enough.”

He put the photograph away, and his expression turned sombre. “So I … had another kid, didn't even know till a couple of months ago.” 

B'Elanna and Tom nodded, sympathetically. They both knew about the Terra Prime xenophobes who had engineered baby Elizabeth.

“She … she had the happiest smile, and the cutest little pointed ears, and … she was me and T'Pol. Those people put her together out of hate, but she was my daughter. I wish we'd had a chance to try out of love.”

Wordlessly, B'Elanna reached out and put her arms around him. The half-Klingon woman and the human man were still for a long time. 

Tom got up and padded over to the computer interface, returning with a box of holographic tissues.

A few minutes later, T'Pol came over to them.

“Forgive the intrusion,” she said to B'Elanna. “I believe we are about to begin.”

Trip got to his feet. 

“Good luck from us,” B'Elanna replied to her with a smile.

Trip and T'Pol left them for where Archer was wrestling with a button while trying to sneak a final glance at his speech.

T'Pol held Archer's PADD as he straightened his collar. 

“If I hadn't waited till the last minute …”

Trip grinned. “Hey Cap'n. You look very heroic.”

The next moment he was caught in a huge bear-hug by his Captain. He returned it wholeheartedly.

Releasing Trip with a smile, Archer turned to his First Officer. 

He lifted his hand in salute. 

“Live long and prosper, T'Pol.”

T'Pol raised her own in response; paused – and then held it out. After a moment's surprise, a broad smile spread across Archer's face as they shook hands warmly.

“Summon the future, Jonathan,” T'Pol said.

Side-by-side, Trip and T'Pol, and B'Elanna and Tom, watched Archer mount the stairs.

  


^^^^

  
There was an expectant quiet in the anteroom after Archer had gone.

“You know,” said B'Elanna, thoughtfully, “if we ignited one of the plasma relays through the polaron field it should boost the experimental modulator's output. We could use a Tucker Plate to isolate the rest of the prototype.”

Through the open doorway they heard loud applause in the packed stadium as Archer appeared. 

B'Elanna continued, quietly, as if to herself: “It's worth trying.” 

She turned to Tom. 

“I think I'm ready to talk to Garon. I should have done it when he first spoke.”

“So I guess we're through here.”

“I guess we are.” 

They stood.

“Computer, end program.”


	8. Chapter 8

“… And, finally, to the finest crew in the Delta Quadrant. Once again, you've surpassed every expectation: I am more proud of you than I can possibly say. We got out of the Void with some quick thinking, some even quicker flying and, if I may say so B'Elanna, some brilliant engineering. Most of all, we got out because we held tight to our ideals, and showed just how strong we are when we work together. This was a strength we forged through our alliances – which are just another way of describing friendship.”

A ripple of applause ran through the assembled crew as Captain Janeway stepped down from the archway.

“That sounded a little familiar,” a tall man in a loose cotton shirt noted to his companion through the murmur of renewed conversation.

“You didn't _invent_ the concept of mutual co-operation and understanding, Jonathan,” the brown-eyed woman pointed out.

“Captain Hernandez, Captain Archer,” Janeway greeted them with a broad smile.

Around them, _Enterprise_ and _Voyager_ crew members mingled in the sunny portico to the sound of water splashing in a fountain. Large plants flowered in the warm, moist air, their colours picked up in the bright clothing of the lu'au-goers.

“Welcome to our little party,” Janeway said.

“You've got a fine crew,” Archer replied.

“The best in Starfleet. But don't tell them I said that.”

“You've been out here a long time,” Erika commented.

Janeway's eyes grew sad. “I'm trying to get them home. We've come a long way.”

Archer was sympathetic. “I remember when we thought we were stranded ten years from Jupiter Station. The galaxy can seem a pretty big place sometimes.”

“What did you do?”

“We got some help from people we met on the way. All right, they tried to kill one of my crew and we had to destroy the repair station, but the principle's there.”

A diversion arrived in the shape of a bounding bundle of brown fur which barked excitedly.

“And who is this?” Janeway asked in delight.

Archer picked up the beagle. “Say hello to Captain Janeway, Porthos.”

“Oh isn't he adorable! I so envy you. I left my dog behind on Earth. I thought I was only going to be away for a few weeks.”

“It's certainly nice to have _one_ member of my crew who obeys me all the time.”

“Cheese nibbles, Captain?” It was Tom, a purple lei over his startlingly-patterned Aloha shirt, holding a tray of delicacies.

“No, Porthos, you know what I said about –”

“Sorry,” Janeway said with a smile, as Porthos suddenly became very busy: “I couldn't resist.”

“Hey there!” 

Tom turned at the call. He detoured over to where Trip was sitting on a low wall, his shirt competing colourfully with the wisteria behind him. B'Elanna was leaning back on a well-cushioned recliner, beach dress spread arrestingly over her proud stomach.

Tom proffered his tray. “So there's cheese nibbles, pineapple spikes, and pizza bites. I wouldn't try _that_ , it's Leola Surprise. Believe me, you don't want to be surprised.”

Trip took an appreciative bite. 

“This is some decent pizza. Chef never could get the mozzarella right, no matter what I did to his resequencer. Still tasted like injector putty.”

“Neelix wanted to throw another holodeck lu'au as soon as we got our replicators back online. Glad you could make it.”

B'Elanna spoke: “Especially as, like the Captain said, we got out with teamwork. Which included you.”

Trip grinned at her. “You know, your Cap'n's one hell of a mighty fine lady. Starfleet's gonna be in good hands in the future.”

“We think so,” Tom said, proudly.

Trip snaffled another slice of pizza. 

“So _that_ is not a bad shirt you're wearin' there,” he said to Tom. He glanced down at himself. “Not quite up to _this_ one, o' course, but –”

“Hey!” Tom put down the tray and showed off his shirt proudly. “This is a Big Daddy-O Surf Special, vintage 1962, replicated _down to the molecules_ , and it cost me two weeks' rations!”

Trip was laughing. “Huh, not bad …”

“What's _yours_?”

“It's – uh – well it's noticeable.”

“It certainly is,” B'Elanna said with amusement.

“My sister Lizzy,” – Trip swallowed briefly – “she was an architect. Had a job on Hawaii, she practically built the new university. Every time she came back, she brought me a shirt. Told me to get myself noticed.”

Tom considered him.

“I reckon the print on mine's better. Bolder.”

“Well d'you call that a collar? Mine's wider.”

They eyed each other.

Trip said: “Y'know, I reckon we need someone to judge this.”

B'Elanna raised her eyebrows. “What, a bad shirt contest?”

“Yes!” said Tom. “I mean, no … I mean, let's ask the Captain!”

Trip grinned. “Yeah!”

They helped B'Elanna to her feet.

Janeway, Erika, and Archer were amused to be accosted by a determined pair of their subordinates. A wryly smiling B'Elanna perched herself on a nearby chair.

“Cap'n you gotta tell us –” Trip began to Archer.

“Captain, we need you to –” Tom said to Janeway.

“Gentlemen, please,” Janeway laughed. “What can we do for you?”

Trip spread his arms. 

“Whaddaya reckon? Is this is the best shirt here, or is his?”

“This is a Big Daddy–”

“Please, Mr Paris, I think we can judge on their own merits.”

Janeway and Archer looked at their officers thoughtfully, and then conferred in low voices.

“I reckon your Cap'n's goin' for me,” Trip whispered.

“She is _not_!” Tom replied, deeply offended.

After a few moments Janeway and Archer turned to them.

“We find ourselves unable to reach agreement,” Janeway said, regretfully.

“I think Trip's has the less outrag– I mean, the more tasteful colour scheme,” Archer said gravely.

“ _Thank_ you, Cap'n. Knew I could count on you.”

Janeway said: “And I think Tom has a certain … _élan_ in the pattern of his sleeves that nudges him into the lead.”

Tom grinned. 

Trip turned.

“Cap'n Hernandez, _you_ gotta sort this out for us.”

“No fair, you were on her ship too!”

“For all of six weeks.” Trip looked at Erika hopefully. “Still, I did get those engines tuned up nicely.”

“ _And_ ruffled feathers from Engineering to the Armory.” Erika was severe.

“No change there then,” Archer noted.

“Say you love me _really_ , Cap'n.”

Erika inspected them carefully. 

“Well I think …”

“Yeah?”

“I think B'Elanna beats you both.”

The reply from Trip and Tom came out in chorus:

“Aw … Cap'n!”


	9. Chapter 9

The party was in full swing. Tom had left Trip and B'Elanna talking about intermix ratios and the equally inscrutable behaviour of First Officers, and was circulating with a tray of drinks.

He nodded to Harry Kim and Travis Mayweather, each well supplied with a large Blue Andorian, and talking animatedly.

“I feel like people just forget me all the time!” Travis rearranged his straws. “And I’m still an Ensign!”

“ _Tell_ me about it,” Harry said, with feeling. “How many times have you died?”

“Once, but that was a bio-mimetic duplicate and … what?”

Tom glided up to a group seated around a small table.

“Drink, Captain? Or Captain? How about you, Cap'n?”

Archer and Erika took a drink. Janeway smiled at Tom.

“Your idea to invite our colleagues here to the party was perfect. I think everyone's having a wonderful time. I know I am.”

“Thanks,” Tom grinned. “And if I may say so, Cap'n, you're lookin' one hell of a mighty fine … uh … Cap'n today.”

Janeway raised her eyebrows. “Thank you, Mr Paris. I think.”

Tom made good his escape.

As he neared the fountain he saw Seven of Nine, who had consented to wear a lei over her plain linen tunic, talking with Malcolm Reed and Hoshi Sato. Hoshi, looking completely at home, had crowned herself with yellow blossoms. She was holding Malcolm's arm as he tugged self-consciously at one of Trip's less eye-watering shirts, a few sizes too big for him.

“I find yours crude, yet strangely effective,” Seven was saying to Malcolm as Tom passed. “Perhaps we could go somewhere quieter and you could show me your torpedoes.”

“Er … would that be entirely … appropriate?”

“I merely wish to obtain data on your historical armaments. Did you think I was suggesting sexual congress?”

“No! I mean to say … sometimes a torpedo is just … a torpedo.”

“You are correct. Besides, you are obviously attracted predominantly to human males.”

“ _What?!_ How did you … who told you that?”

“It is evident.” Seven looked from Malcolm to Hoshi. “Ah. Were your shipmates unaware of this?”

Hoshi gave Malcolm's arm a reassuring squeeze.

“Don't worry, Malcolm, we know.”

“You _do_?”

“Of course.” She smiled warmly at him. “Not even Trip bought those stories about half the girls of San Francisco. We love you just the same.”

She gave him a peck on the cheek.

Malcolm blushed.

Tom strolled with his now-empty tray over to where Neelix was dispensing ornate food and drink in a hat and apron which managed to outdo even his own confections.

“Hey Neelix, got any more of that _Enterprise_ dessert?”

“Of course!” Neelix stepped back and spoke to a figure out of Tom's sight. “Some more of your delicious _pee-kan_ pie, if you please, Mr Chef!”

A white-clad arm rose above the level of the counter, a very large dish in hand.

“Thanks!” Tom said, taking the pie.

He looked around. The EMH, who was trying to get into the swing of things with a holographic cocktail, was talking with Phlox. The rotund Denobulan was wearing three leis and taking alternate sips from a large coconut cup and a glass of suspiciously opaque pink liquid with four paper umbrellas and a hibiscus flower in it.

“I find humans a fascinating species,” he was saying, “but sometimes they have _quite_ unaccountable tastes. Some members of my crew flatly object to the use of Regulan bloodworms even for quite severe injuries.”

The EMH sniffed. “Don’t talk to _me_ about being under-appreciated. I've cured at least seven major plagues since I was activated, and half the time they don't even remember to thank me. At least they’ve _now_ stopped turning me off like a lightbulb.”

Tom shook his head, fondly. Skirting Malcolm Reed, now laughingly being fed pieces of pineapple by one of the beach hunks B'Elanna had programmed, he passed near Chakotay and Hoshi. The pair were regarding the rest of the party thoughtfully.

“Sometimes it feels I'm the only one who _likes_ plants and animals, and things that don't have buttons or go beep,” Hoshi said. “Or explode.”

Chakotay said gently: “They'll always need someone to remind them there's life outside a starship, in all its infinite variety. To remind them of the moment in the rose-garden.”

“Including the bugs?”

Chakotay laughed. “Yes, even the bugs.”

Passing by the 'Captains' Table' again, now minus Archer, Tom saw Erika's eyes light up at the sight of his dish.

“I tried stealing Jonathan's Chef, but he was far too loyal,” Erika said, taking a very large piece of pie and helping Janeway to an equally impressive slice. 

“Some people get the best of everything,” Janeway sympathised.

“By _some people_ you mean the flagship Captains,” Erika suggested. “The rest of us have the responsibility, but never quite get that recognition.”

Janeway nodded. “There will always be people saying we don't measure up no matter how tall we stand.”

They were interrupted by a shout, and the arrival of a striking-looking woman with a purple flower crown caught around her ponytail. Exchanging a kiss with Hoshi en route, Veronica Fletcher made for her Captain.

“Never keep a Kiwi from a keg party! This is sweet as!” 

She gulped her drink, jumped on a nearby table, and began a boisterous rendition of ‘The Day the Pub Burned Down’ in the key of alcohol.

Erika sighed. “Ronni, don’t make me put you in the Brig to sober up again.”

Veronica gave her a cheery wave.

Janeway looked startled. “You put your First Officer in the Brig?”

“We were supervising a refit, no-one else was on board.” Erika’s clear eyes danced. “It was the next morning before she noticed I hadn’t locked her in.”

Grinning, Tom scooped up his now much lighter dish. He looked thoughtful for a moment, then approached a table where two serious figures were sitting in diffident silence.

“Hey, Tuvok,” Tom said. “Great you got to meet your hero!” 

He nodded to T'Pol as he moved off.

Tuvok and T'Pol regarded each other.

T'Pol raised an eyebrow. “Vulcans do not have heroes.”

“No. No, indeed we do not.” Tuvok sat up straight. “Commander, you are … _not_ my hero.”

On his way to deliver the last of the pie to the two engineers, Tom paused and looked around the lu'au. Seven, Hoshi, and Chakotay were laughing together, while Veronica juggled coconuts for them. Behind the now-conversing Vulcans, Phlox and the EMH were having a face-stretching contest.

Tom smiled.

^^^^

  
The lanterns had been lit at the lu'au as darkness fell. The groups that remained were smaller, the talk quieter. In one corner, Tuvok and T'Pol picked out a gentle tune on a pair of Vulcan lyres.

“So you used a Tucker Plate?” 

Trip, B'Elanna, and Tom stood around the fountain, last drinks in hand.

B'Elanna nodded. “It seemed the right thing to do.”

“Pleased to have been of service,” Trip said with a grin.

“I'm glad we can all be here,” B'Elanna said. “If I'd … chosen differently, I don't think this party could have happened.”

Trip looked thoughtful. “I reckon history always remembers the big guys who make the alliances. Most times it forgets people like us in the engine room – but it's our choices that change how they actually run.”

“And which future we get.”

Trip raised his glass.

“To the future,” he said.

B'Elanna lifted hers.

“With the past,” she replied.

Tom joined in, and the three of them shared the toast.

“Drinking to the future?”

They looked around to see the three Captains. Janeway was smiling.

“It's been a long road,” Trip commented.

“There's still a lot of work to do,” Archer added. 

“For all of us,” Janeway said. “It's something Admiral Paris told us at our Commissioning: 'Not farewell, but fare forward, voyagers'.”

In the pause that followed, Tom and B'Elanna exchanged a glance.

“Captain,” B'Elanna began, a little hesitantly, “Tom and I have been thinking. We'd like to ask you, for the baby … Klingon children have a _soh-chim_. It's kind of like a mentor. Well, _actually_ you're meant to give her her first bat'leth and take her targ hunting, but we're going to say that's optional –”

“You're asking me to be godmother?” Janeway's eyes sparkled. “I would be honoured.”

She drew B'Elanna into a close hug.

After a moment they parted, B'Elanna blinking away her sudden emotion.

“Oh, and pain sticks are the traditional birthday gift but –”

“How about a chemistry set?”

“If she takes after her mother you could get her 'my first matter-antimatter reaction chamber',” Tom suggested.

“And y'all can clean up the warp core breaches,” Trip laughed.

With a final flourish, T'Pol and Tuvok finished their melody. After everyone had applauded, the two engineers and Tom moved off into the dusk, leaving the Captains alone by the fountain.

Janeway turned to Archer. 

“I’ve been reading the Federation Charter quite a lot these last few days,” she said.

“It kept the negotiators happy for six years,” Archer noted, wryly. “Did you find what you were looking for?”

“I didn’t find a loophole. But yes, I found what I needed. I found myself.”

Janeway looked around the lamp-lit party. 

“It’s so good to see them happy,” she smiled.

Erika’s eyes were perceptive. “You’re a long way from home out here.”

“Like you two were. You went out into the unknown without friends around you.”

“We met our friends out there,” Archer replied. “We found our family.”

Her eyes focussed far away, Janeway began to speak, softly. 

“Space, the final frontier. These are the voyages of the Starship _Voyager_ –”

“ _Enterprise_ –”

“ _Columbia_ –”

“It’s continuing mission …”

Archer took up the words: “… to explore strange new worlds, to seek out new life, and new civilizations …”

Erika stepped forward: “… to boldly go where no one has gone before.”

  


**FIN**

  


**Author's Note:**

> This fic is entirely the fault of the three dedicatees, having snowballed out of control from a Tumblr thread ([ here ](http://rikerssexblouse.tumblr.com/post/114431281771/rendezvouswithenterprise-rikerssexblouse) and [ here ](http://rikerssexblouse.tumblr.com/post/114541751031/rendezvouswithenterprise-mollybecameanengineer)). I couldn't resist combining a Trip-Tom bad shirt contest with an Enterprise finale fix.
> 
> _We shall not cease from exploration_  
>  _And the end of all our exploring_  
>  _Will be to arrive where we started_  
>  _And know the place for the first time._


End file.
